n to the matter of Hedwig's marriage," said the King. "I--"

"Marriage! When our very lives are threatened!"

"I would be greatly honored," said the King, "if I might be permitted to
finish what I was saying."

She had the grace to flush.

"Under the circumstances," the King resumed, "Hedwig's marriage takes on
great significance--great political significance."

For a half-hour then, he talked to her. More than for years, he
unbosomed himself. He had tried. His ministers had tried. Taxes had
been lightened; the representation of the people increased, until; as he
said, he was only nominally a ruler. But discontent remained. Some who
had gone to America and returned with savings enough to set themselves
up in business, had brought back with them the American idea.

He spoke without bitterness. They refused to allow for the difference
between a new country and an old land, tilled for many generations. They
forgot their struggles across the sea and brought back only stories of
prosperity. Emigration had increased, and those who remained whispered
of a new order, where each man was the government, and no man a king.

Annunciata listened to the end. She felt no pity for those who would
better themselves by discontent and its product, revolt. She felt only
resentment that her peace was being threatened, her position assailed.
And in her resentment she included the King himself. He should have done
better. These things, taken early enough, could have been arranged.

And something of this she did not hesitate to say. "Karnia is quiet
enough," she finished, a final thrust.

"Karnia is better off. A lowland, most of it, and fertile." But a spot
of color showed in his old cheeks. "I am glad you spoke of Karnia.
Whatever plans we make, Karnia must be considered."

"Why? Karnia does not consider us."

He raised his hand. "You are wrong. Just now, Karnia is doing us the
honor of asking an alliance with us. A matrimonial alliance."

The Archduchess was hardly surprised, as one may believe. But she was
not minded to yield too easily. The old resentment against her father
flamed. Indifferent mother though she was, she made capital of a fear
for Hedwig's happiness. In a cold and quiet voice she reminded him of
her own wretchedness, and of Karl's reputation.

At last she succeeded in irritating the King--a more difficult thing
now than in earlier times, but not so hard a matter at that. He listened
quietly until she had fini